Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ireland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Slits to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Tommy Roe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Junior Murvin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Q65,
Moss Icon,
Lindisfarne,
Pulsallama,
Dave Gahan,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
Sex Pistols,
Sister Nancy,
Guru Guru,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Magma,
Whodini,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anthony Braxton,
KRS-One,
Laurel Aitken,
The Skatalites,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacques Brel,
Ituana,
Little Man,
John Lydon,
Eden Ahbez,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
Vainqueur,
Glenn Branca,
The Neon Judgement,
Isaac Hayes,
Mantronix,
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.